| |
After the End
Irish Theatre Magasine, Nov 2008
After the End
, which stages a hypothetical situation resulting from a nuclear
terrorist attack, was the final play to be performed at the festival.
The play traces the effects of the initial trauma and ensuing cabin
fever on its two characters, Mark and Louise, as they hide in an old
nuclear bunker at Mark’s house. The set was basic and functional,
consisting of a single, metal-framed bed, a makeshift bed made up on
the floor, a table and chairs, a radio, a jar of gas and various
supplies. The play opened with the sound of fuzzy, intersecting radio
news reports, followed by white noise; the initial blue hue of the
lighting emphasised the cold, metallic feel of the set. |
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Scenes were separated by blackouts, accompanied by the harsh white
noise of the radio. This created a sense of time passing, as the
characters became more desperate and their actions, more shocking. Some
of the most disturbing of these outcomes were spot-lit in order to
focus the audiences gaze and add to the raw intensity of the play. The
way in which the plot develops, combined with the set, the lighting and
the sound effects, created an experience that was both visually and
aurally hash, yet utterly gripping. |
|
|
| |
|
|
Although the way in which the plot develops is surprising, it remains
credible. This because the language of the play, created by a talented
playwright and delivered by skilled actors, allows its audience to
empathise with these characters, even in their lowest moments; the
dialogue captures perfectly the colourful vocabulary, rhythm,
hesitations and interruptions of the speech of young professionals in
contemporary Ireland. Mark and Louise are characterised as individuals
that could easily be as much acquaintances of the audience members, as
they are of each other. These are individuals that audience members
will undoubtedly recognise from their own social networks. As a result
of the language, the ways in which the characters interact, along with
the opportunities for the audience to relate to them, the play remains
naturalist and offers comic relief throughout, despite its shocking
outcomes.
By Siobhán O'Gorman
|
|
|
| |
Bonny & Read
Galway Advertiser, 01/06/’07
New Galway-based company, Moonfish, graced the Town Hall studio last week with its swashbuckling account of the amazing-yet-true adventures of two 18th century female pirates, Anne Bonny and Mary Read.
Bonny was of Irish birth but grew up in Carolina whence she eloped with a handsome pirate and, donning male attire, took up a career of wild exploits on the high seas. Here she encountered another feisty, cross-dressing female, Mary Read.
Read had served in the British Army and was en route to America when her ship was captured by a pirate crew led by the notorious Calico Jack. Read threw her lot in with the pirates, and she and Bonny would prove to be just as fierce as their male counterparts through many a hair-raising escapade.
Moonfish’s lively retelling of this remarkable duo’s story features just two actors, Ionia Ní Chróinín and Libby Christensen, who as well as portraying Bonny and Read also assume the roles of sundry other pirates and their assorted adversaries.
The production is further enriched by singer/musicians, Una Ní Fhlannagáin, Damien MacDonnel, and Grace Kiely, who not only provide accompaniment for the show’s rousing selection of songs and shanties but also create sounds such as a ship’s creaking timbers to add to the atmosphere.
This was an imaginative, energetic and well-realised production, neatly directed by Máiréad Ní Chróinín, who co-authored the script with her sister, Ionia. The show was about three-quarters of an hour long and we would gladly have spent longer in the company of these singular women, Anne Bonny and Mary Read.
Charlie McBride, Galway Advertiser, 01/06/’07
|
